“What exactly, my love, do you think you’re doing?” Blake looked down at her. “These stairs make me nervous. I just wanted to make sure you got down them okay.” Livia felt silly now. He was obviously fine. Their slow… — Debra Anastasia Copy Share Image
“What are you doing?” Blake asked. “Getting rid of it,” I said, feeling unusually antsy. “That's perfectly good J!” Blake protested. “Sorry.” I dumped the last of it. “Front-row seats at the suicide show,” Ginger said. “Lovely.” — Wendy Higgins Copy Share Image
